What We'd Rather Forget
by meluvblue
Summary: On the island, you didn't survive unless you were willing to become the evil you live with. Disney's account of their story wasn't entirely inaccurate, but it left out a lot. Children growing up on an island of villains & raised by the most narcissistic & evil monsters that ever lived…It's not hard to imagine that they didn't have the happiest or healthiest of childhoods.
1. Evie: 8

\- This is the first of several one shots I decided to write after watching the second half of Descendants on tv last night. The movie was cheesy, but I liked the concept – I just wish some of the relationships and parent to child dynamics had been thought out a little more.

\- These one shots will be from the gang's childhood up to right before they leave the island.

* * *

Evie

8 Years old.

Evie's Mother was the most powerful and knowledgeable enchantress alive. She didn't have the raw magic power to be a powerful sorceress like Lady Maleficent, but she had enough to add an increased power to her already fearsome potions and elixirs.

Today, Grimhilde had deigned to reveal the process behind one of the darkest concoctions the queen had ever created; her beloved immortality potion. Evie had known for a while now that the creation of the potion required horrific sacrifices, but she had never been privy to seeing it made in person.

Resisting the urge to throw up as she was forced to witness her Mother slitting the throat of the baby girl dangling over the old cauldron in their cellar, Evie found herself desperately wishing that the woman had guarded the secrets of the evil brew for a while longer.

"….Mother, who did that baby belong to?" Glancing up with a derisive purse of her lips, Grimhilde shook her head.

"No one really. In exchange for a love potion I had a young woman on the other side of the island give me her child. Seems the silly girl let herself become knocked up with the spawn of a man that wanted nothing more from her than her body."

"I see." And she did. After all, Mother had made sure Evie was well aware of her place.

" _Preserve yourself, Evelynn. Your beauty makes you a prize men would die to claim and I will not have that body tainted when the time comes for me to take it."_

" _Yes Mother."_

When people heard she was the Evil Queen's daughter, they paused and took a moment to scrutinize her appearance, wondering if she was simply a clone the woman had created in her image. Grimhilde's vanity and her past with the renowned Snow White was legendary; the idea that the woman would risk repeating history by having another child was preposterous.

Only Evie and her two closest friends knew the truth. On her sixteen birthday her Mother would hand her a potion that kills instantly; stopping the heart and freezing the body as if it'd been injected with ice. Her body would remain frozen until the next full moon, when Mother would wash the body in elixirs imbued with powerful Dark Magicke. Her new body ready for the evil soul it would host, Grimhilde would then slit her wrist and drain her blood into the corpse's mouth, allowing her soul to travel with it into her new, youthful form.

Seven years and ten months ago, Grimhilde summoned a demon known for his beauty and used him to conceive a child. Over the long months of her pregnancy she downed hundreds of potions to increase her child's beauty and power to such levels that would surpass even hers.

She learned from the mistake she'd made with her first child, she once said. Rather than leave Evie ignorant as she had done with Snow White, her second child would know implicitly why she had been born.

"Mother….." The young brunette began nervously.

"Yes?"

"I know we have to be the most beautiful –"

"We don't _have_ to be anything. We _are_ the most beautiful, Evelynn." The queen snapped with a dangerous glint in her eyes. Feeling a thrill of alarm shoot down her spine, Evie nodded and quickly backtracked.

"I – yes, of course Mother; I mischose my wording. My apologies."

For a moment the ex-queen continued to watch her daughter in the way a viper might stare at a rat that it's just bitten. Evie stiffened, her blood turning cold as she fought to keep from flinching. Moving her muscles into such an unsightly position would give her wrinkles, thus making her ugly. Being ugly meant being punished.

The last time she'd let herself be ugly like that, Mother had paralyzed her with poison and left her in the cellar for a week. Not the worst punishment she'd ever had by a long shot, and being cut off from sunlight and movement like that had done wonders for her complexion….but still. She'd still been terrified of the dark back then, and the tears accompanying her silent screams had dried out the skin around her eyes quite terribly.

Luckily her Mother was in a merciful mood that day. Letting her daughter off with a reprimanding nod, she waited for the young woman to continue.

"The cost of making this potion – that is to say, the fact that it requires this," she pointed to the unmoving body now carelessly cast aside on the ground with a trembling finger. "Makes me feel…..ugly inside. Bad."

"My dear, simple Evelynn. It doesn't matter what you feel inside, even if it _is_ ugly," she scoffed with a regal if patronizing wave of her hand. "As long as you're beautiful on the outside, that's what matters. I've told you over and over again and you never listen," she sighed with an almost motherly exasperation.

"No one cares what you're like on the inside. Being pretty is the only reason people notice you and since you won't be the one suffering if that beauty fades, you need to be responsible and guard that gorgeous appearance of ours preciously. Let no one near enough to mar it, understood?"

Evie wasn't hearing these words for the first time. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing that poor child killed so callously, but for some reason she felt a small crack of hurt and rebellion appear in her heart.

She accepted that Mother was right about most things. The woman was, for all intents and purposes, her god. But this time…..this time Mother was wrong. Mal told her all the time that she was smart, and Jay was always the first to quietly chuckle when she made the rare attempt at a joke.

"I understand, Mother."

She hadn't been given permission yet, but she desperately wanted to see her friends. She felt hopeful that she would be allowed outside for a few minutes today; the sun was covered by dark clouds and with some potions her skin would be completely protected. Although….

Asking to go outside would be greedy, and despite our ungrateful she was being by feeling so uncomfortable with the ingredients being used she had been given a truly precious gift by being allowed to watch. The young girl paused for a moment as she watched her Mother drop a strange looking fruit into the cauldron, causing the liquid inside to turn an unsettling grey color. A foul stench filled the room, and Evie covered her mouth and nose in disgust.

Okay, so maybe she wasn't being too demanding by wanting to go outside. Besides, if there was ever a day to ask it was today.

It was her birthday, after all.

* * *

\- Wow, this ended up a little darker than I would have liked. When I started writing, I didn't plan for some of the content to be quite so disturbing. Sorry about that.

\- I've decided that while she knows Carlos and could even be considered friends with him, she may not consider him a best friend quite yet. She's only eight right now though, so give her time.


	2. Carlos: 9

-I went back and reread the last chapter, and holy cow was it rough. I wrote it at like four in the morning while I was waiting for a plane at the airport, and when I finished I just gave it a quick glance before submitting it. I'm going to postpone rewriting it for now and just focus on getting the next chapter out.

Thank you for all the amazing support on this story so far, I seriously appreciate that you're giving this a chance.

* * *

Carlos

Age 9

Carlos found himself once again by the creek, washing blood out of his clothes.

They'd gotten stained a few days ago when he'd helped his mom carry the remains of a large pig out of the house; and after a spectacularly brutal bout of vomiting at the smell and appearance of the mutilated beast had understandably forgotten to wash his clothes.

He was really regretting that now.

Blood was really hard to get out of clothing once it's had a chance to sink in. He'd been scrubbing his shirt and pants for the last hour and barely dulled the red patches macabrely decorating the cloth. He'd been so focused on trying to remove the stains that he didn't notice the two boys coming up behind him.

"Hey, freak."

Groaning, Carlos slowly turned around to meet the eyes of his nemesis.

"What are you doing here, Jacque?"

Smirking, the boy crossed his arms. "What's it to you, copy-cat? I go where I want and do what I want - whenever I want to."

Dropping the soaked clothes, Carlos spun around and clenched his fists angrily.

"Don't call me that," he growled.

"Call you what? Copy-cat? I don't see why not; it's what you are, what with Cruella de Vil being your mom. " Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, the handsome face he'd inherited from his father twisted angrily.

"You know what? I think I _will_ tell you why I'm here. You see, my cat's gone missing. Everyone knows your mom's the one kidnapping and killing our pets. I bet you're helping her do it too, copy-cat!"

* * *

"Sweetie, why are you crying?" Scrubbing his hands over his face, Carlos furiously wiped away the moisture from his cheeks and looked down.

"Carlos, I asked you a question." Hearing the hard edge in his mother's voice, Carlos immediately lifted his face and answered her.

"It – it was Jacque."

"Jacque?" Cruella asked with a frown. "He's the son of Gaston and…..Claudette Bimbette was it?" She thought for a moment. "I can never keep track of which one he ended up marrying; he was with each of those airheaded sisters at one point or another."

Snorting derisively, she shook her head. Glancing down at her son, she softened her eyes and gave an encouraging smile to get him to continue.

"Jacque was angry at me be… because his cat went missing." Unable to keep looking his mother's face, he nervously glanced at the closed door of her workroom.

The room the pained howls of a tortured cat had been coming from all morning.

"Jacque heard the rumors. He knows that you – that sometimes you go out and take animals and…." He gulped uncomfortably. "And that you like to hurt them and kill them."

"Oh Sweetheart," Cruella crooned sympathetically. "I know it might seem cruel to do this, but mommy has a good reason. You see, I was born a little different from other people."

"Are you sick?" he asked timidly. In a flash, his mother's face dropped from its tender expression to one of hateful rage.

"How _dare_ you!" she hissed venomously. A dull cracking sound rang through the room, muffled by the numerous animal furs nailed to the walls of the small house. Carlos stepped away in pained shock, holding a hand to the tender skin of his cheek and let out a quiet hiccup.

Satisfied that she'd gotten her point across, Cruella adopted a forgiving look and held out her arms invitingly. Knowing he'd only make her angry again if he refused, the young boy obediently stepped into her embrace and hugged her back.

"I'm sorry mom, I didn't mean to."

"It's alright as long as you don't do it again, sweetie. It's my fault you weren't raised with any manners."

Feeling guilty, Carlos apologized again and carefully looked up at the woman still wrapped around him. Feeling a strange sort of bravery despite the hit, he asked a question that'd been plaguing him since he was old enough to realize that his home life was not normal.

"Mom? Why – why _do_ you hurt animals?"

With a small laugh, Cruella let go of her son and crouched down so she could look him in the face.

"Because I see them for what they really are," she whispered with a conspiratory smile. "Dogs are the worst as you know, but all animals have a certain degree of treachery in them. What people don't understand is just how _smart_ they are, how conniving and bloodthirsty.

"They called me a sociopath, a _butcher_ ," she continued with a sneer. "But darling, what they didn't understand was that I was _saving_ those wretched ingrates by killing the filthy beasts tricking them."

"Oh. Why do you keep their furs?"

"I'm a huntress, sweetheart. Hunting gives the predator – me – the right, nay, the _obligation_ to take a trophy as my spoil of war. And make no mistake Carlos, I _am_ fighting a war; one where only I and precious few others have heard the calling to destroy the trickiest and most fearsome enemy mankind has ever faced."

Face dawning with comprehension, Carlos looked up at the fearsome woman before him with new appreciation.

"Wow, you're like a hero then." Frowning, he looked at his mother questioningly. "But….we're evil, right….? It's why we're on the island of the Lost."

Shaking her head regretfully, his mother sighed and brushed a tender hand over the cheek she'd hit earlier. She maintained her caring expression, but the woman's hazel eyes took on a gleam of satisfaction as they watched the young child before her wince at the contact with his sore flesh.

"We're all victims here, my love. We 'villains' were rebels; revolutionaries that saw how corrupt and foolish the kingdoms were and tried to change things. The problem lies in the wretched fools that were willing to live like sheep; who were too _scared_ of the great things we were capable of. Labeled 'evil' to trick the masses, we were cast off and abandoned on this island without mercy."

"I had no idea….mom, I'm so sorry that happened to you."

Arranging her face into a sweet expression, Cruella patted her son's head softly and stood up.

"It's alright, sweetling. We'll find a way to live this place. Until then though, I wonder if you would care to learn the secrets of my work?"

Carlos's first reaction was to nod excitedly.

"Excellent," she crooned lovingly. "I suppose I could teach you….but first you must prove to me you're worthy. Be a good boy, darling, and clean my workspace for me. I left quite a mess behind when I interrogated my latest prisoner."

His excitement quickly became soured by dread.

"What was it?" Carlos asked timidly.

"A cat. Quite a difficult enemy, that one was."

"It wouldn't talk to you?"

"They never do. Instead, I have to interpret their screams. It's why I have to cut and break them; the more they hurt the better I can understand what they're saying."

Even if all animals _were_ bad and deserved what his mom did to them, Carlos found a part of himself still troubled by what she was doing.

What she wanted _him_ to do.

 _All this time, she's been helping people. Jacque and those idiots that follow him around like he's some kind of god – they're all wrong._

Carlos watched his mother shrug on her favorite fur coat and leave the house with a cheerful farewell. With how much care she'd put into her appearance, he figured she was going to visit his father's house at the other end of the island. Sighing unhappily, Carlos grabbed an empty bucket and several stained rags from the supply closet, wondering if he should visit Jay's house.

As unpleasant as Jay's father could be, being around that drunkard was better than sticking around for his mother's return. William Clayton, or Clay as he was often referred to, always brought out the worst in Cruella. Carlos knew first hand of his dad's cruel nature, and hated how the gamesman seemed uniquely capable of bringing out Cruella's own vicious streak.

When she finished visiting the man, her thirst for blood seemed near ravenous. It was only after she came back from spending time with her husband that Cruella watched Carlos the same way she watched her animals; like she wanted him to be one of her victims.

Entering her work room, Carlos purposely kept his head down until he reached the table she'd used. The room was filled with a terrifying array of instruments and devices he knew existed for the sole purpose of creating as much pain as humanly possible. Cruella purposely left the dried blood of her victims on the tools, "for the beautiful color" she once explained.

Resisting the urge to gag, Carlos wrapped his hands with the rags and picked up the largest piece of the skinned animal; tossing it into the metal bucket with a sickening sound. He did the same with the six other body parts scattered on the stained wood, trying not to focus on the wetness of the blood soaking through the rags.

He tried not to breathe in too deeply, but after a minute of breathing shallowly his deprived lungs forced him to take in a couple proper breaths. The harsh, metallic smell of blood and ruptured intestines hit him hard and Carlos felt a few tears slide from his burning eyes and create a damp patch on his shirt. Not wanting to be in the room any longer than he had to, Carlos lifted the heavy bucket up to the edge of the table and used his hand to slide the pool of blood and scattered organs into it.

He wiped as best he could, but the table was still wet with blood. He wanted to scrub away any trace of what had happened there, but the last time he'd tried to properly wipe the surface down his mother had flown into a rage and threatened to use his own blood to replace the rust colored stains he'd taken out of the wood.

Ripping the ruined cloth from his hands and dumping it into the bucket, he did his best to ignore the red liquid coating his fingers. Picking the bucket up, he walked out the back door and traveled up the short dirt path leading to a dry well; placing the bucket next to the dried up water source.

His mother would decide later whether to burn the remains in the well or use them as bait to trap her next victim.

Walking back into the house, Carlos washed his hands in the kitchen sink; scrubbing them in water hot enough to quickly turn his hands red. He didn't bother drying them and left the house as quickly as possible.

Cutting through a small patch of forest, the young boy was surprised to run into a small white rabbit nibbling on a leaf. Spotting him, the bunny dropped its leaf and stared back at him; chewing slowly and blinking cutely every few seconds.

"Run," he whispered to it. "If you don't, mom _will_ catch you."

Tilting its head curiously, the rabbit's nose twitched in response.

"….You probably don't understand me. Right now, _I_ don't understand me. You'd be pathetically easy to snatch, you know that?" he asked the small creature.

"Mom's gonna be itching to kill something when she gets back from dad's place, and she' be over the moon with me if I had you in a cage waiting for her. If you don't want to die, you should go. Hell, warn any other animals you run into. Tell them not to come anywhere near our house. If you see a woman with hair like mine then run in the opposite direction and _never_ look back."

The rabbit stood up, and for a second he thought it would actually go. Instead, it hopped towards him.

 _Must be somebody's pet for it to be so comfortable around people._

"Go!" he barked out, suddenly desperate for the innocent animal to disappear. Startled, the bunny gave a chirp of fear and dashed away; vanishing into a thicket of bushes. Standing still, Carlos flashed back to the cruel words Jacque spat at him earlier.

" _My cat's gone missing. Everyone knows your mom's the one kidnapping and killing our pets! I bet you're helping her do it too, copy-cat!"_

He wanted to refute the words, but still wasn't sure he had the right to. Sure he'd saved the rabbit today, but how many would he kill down the road? When would his mom start asking him to trap animals for her? Cruella mentioned teaching him, and she'd never do that lightly.

Carlos was Cruella de Vil's son. Both good and evil alike expected him to follow in her footsteps. Trapped on this island with no way to escape, how could he possibly do any different?

* * *

-I disturbed myself, writing this. I hope it was clear that the Cruella in this story is a sociopath with violent, murderous tendencies (among other things). Her encounter with the 101 Dalmatians might be what got her caught, but I firmly believe that she had a long history of animal abuse and illegal fur dealings before that.

-Gaston, for those of you who may not know, is the bad guy from Beauty and the Beast. He's stupidly handsome, and plain ol' stupidly stupid.

-William Clayton is the bad guy from Tarzan. I felt like he and Cruella were weirdly perfect for each other. The reason I have them living separately is because while I think they're both soul mate psychos that would enjoy spending time together and encourage each other's sick interests, Cruella at least prefers a certain amount of autonomy and space.

Clayton seems like he would be the kind of dad that's distant, kind of an asshole, and has seriously high expectations of any children he might have. Not meeting those expectations made Carlos a disappointment, and therefore not worth much to Clayton. As fucked up as his living situation is with Cruella, at least she acts like she cares about him to a degree (even if it is a super manipulative, narcissistic love).


	3. Jay: 11

-This chapter starts where the last one left off; after Carlos left his mom's place, he made his way over to Jay's home and told him about the conversation he had with his mom.

-Thank you for the reviews! I got some good feedback and I'll do my best to incorporate it into my writing.

-This chapter turned out differently than I was expecting, so this is actually part one of two from Jay's POV.

* * *

Jay

Age 11

* * *

"….and then I came over here. What do you think, Jay?"

"I've heard about your mom too, Carlos. And look, I know you love your mom and everything, but what she does to those animals and the pets she's kidnapped? That's not normal, dude."

Nodding patiently, Carlos explained his mom's reasoning again.

"That stuff your mom said is bullshit," Jay replied bluntly. "Yeah, okay, I've heard there are enchanted animals in the kingdoms that can talk, but I know for a fact that there aren't any on the island."

"It's just because we can't understand their screams. Mom said she'd teach me –"

Grabbing the younger boy's arm roughly, Jay looked into his friend's eyes urgently.

"Dude, please – you _have_ to listen to me on this one. Don't let her teach you any of the stuff she does; it goes beyond evil. We're on an island filled with criminals, and everyone is _terrified_ of Cruella Da Vill. Why do you think that is? Seriously, I need you to think about this really hard."

Carlos shrugged uncomfortably.

"Why did you run the rabbit off, then? Why did you tell it to warn the other animals?"

"I don't –"

"I'll tell you why. It's because deep down, you know your mom is wrong, that the way she tortures and murders defenseless animals _isn't right_."

"I – I could ask her to stop. If she knew how scared it makes me, then maybe she wouldn't do it anymore."

Jay sighed and scrubbed a hand through his shoulder length hair, debating internally on how to move forward. Deciding that the safety of the boy he'd come to think of like a brother was more important than the delusions the poor kid still had of his mother, he opened his mouth with a look of regret.

"You really believe that?" he asked softly. "The way she can act so insane with other people and turn sweet for you on a dime – other people can't really do that. The way she'll hit you or scream at you one second only to hug you and act like she forgives _you_ for making her angry enough to do that in the first place….." Jay trailed off for a second, seeing the painful refusal on his friend's face.

"That isn't love. She uses you and messes with your emotions when it's convenient for her. When it's _fun._ "

Carlos let out a pained gasp, but otherwise said nothing.

"Look, just….stay with me tonight, okay? We don't have to talk about this anymore, but it'll give you time to think things over."

Looking pale, Carlos took a second to think it over. With a flash of fear Jay wondered for a moment I the boy would refuse and decide to go back to his own house for the night.

"What about your dad?" The half-blond Da Vill asked quietly. With relief, Jay answered quickly.

"He sold some merchandise to an idiot for quite a bit of profit, so he decided to buy a whore for the night down at the Red Queen's pleasure house. He won't be back until noon tomorrow at the earliest."

As much as he hated his dad's disgusting vices, Jay was grateful for the reprieve he'd get from the man's presence. Drowning himself in liquor more often than not, Jafar was a violent drunkard with unattainably high expectations for the both the quality and quantity of merchandise he wanted his son to steal.

Looking vaguely relieved, Carlos nodded and walked quietly up to Jay's small and surprisingly barren room. Looking back, he'd once asked the older boy once why it was so empty.

"Everything has some sort of value to it and there's always someone out there willing to buy it," Jay had answered after a pause. "To me, most things are worth more after they've been turned into money."

Carlos distantly wondered if that was true, or if Jay just said that to rationalize the pain of having his father steal and sell all his stuff. Either way, he found comfort in the simple room; it was the complete opposite of his own home with all the horrific and sometimes mysterious tools his mother used lying around everywhere.

"You hungry?" Jay asked, having followed the boy. Carlos opened his mouth to say yes, but quickly shook his head negatively instead when the memory of the cat his mom had mutilated flashed through his head. Jay nodded with understanding.

"Alright. I need to leave for a couple hours for work, but I'll be back by midnight. If you get hungry later I stashed some bread and jam under the loose floorboard by the window. The jug of water's under the bed."

"You still have to go out and steal even when Jafar's away?" Walking over to the bed, Jay pulled the heavy frame back from the wall and grabbed the hidden blanket he kept around for cooler nights.

"I especially need to do it when he's away. If I can find some decent stuff then I'll have backups for the nights when I can't find anything good."

"It's not your fault when you can't find anything. Even the thieves guild respects you as one of the best – if you can't get something, than no one else could even hope to do any different." Carlos defended angrily.

"They don't call me the king of thieves for nothing," Jay added with a smug burst of pride, smoothly unfolding the blanket and laying it on the bed. "But as much as dad likes taking advantage of my talents, he has no idea how much skill and work goes into proper thievery. You have be careful about what you take, and how and when you do it. Moderation in how much you steal and not hitting the same area too many times is especially important, but dad's mentality is that anything not nailed to the floor can and should be taken and sold."

Lifting the covers back invitingly, he waited for Carlos to slip in before gently tucking the covers. "Dad's a shining example of the average citizen on the island. He's greedy, self-indulgent, and thinks he's a lot more powerful and respected than he actually is. Sure he's got some decent skills as a sorcerer, but he's nowhere near Lady Maleficent's level and he not smart enough use his abilities the right way."

Snorting, Jay rolled his eyes and stepped back from the bed as he thought about his father. The man barely even used his powers anymore; he'd all but blamed them as being the reason behind his imprisonment on the island of the Lost.

"Jay?" Carlos asked questioningly at his friend's annoyed expression.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about some stuff. We can talk more in the morning, okay? I gotta get going."

"Kay. Good luck Jay, I hope you find some good stuff."

Without a backwards glance, Jay walked out the doorway with a lazy wave and left the house. Instead of heading deeper into to town however, he headed towards the edge of the island and walked along the beach until he found a cave system cut into rocks leading underneath the ground. It was an unusual dwelling simply because it was someone's household. The surprisingly large home was shaped entirely out of stone, with most of the interior flooded by sea water and sand.

Stripping down to his underwear, Jay glanced down at the spellwork tattooed down his left side. The runes began just under his armpit, scrolling down in neat lines over his ribs to end just over his hip. Reaching over his torso with his right arm, he brushed his fingers over the slightly raised skin and felt a thrill of affection for the woman that had given them to him.

Ursula, the sea witch. An amazing woman –

– _err, mermaid,_ he amended in his head.

Ursula was an amazing mermaid, with a backstory as incredible as it was tragic. Her daughter had once told him the story, and even without knowing the kind if somewhat eccentric mermaid at the time, the tale alone had given him an enormous amount of respect for the sea witch.

At the tender age of four she was sold by her parents to the castle in Atlantis to be raised by the court enchantress and made into young prince Triton's playmate. As the two grew older they became lovers, and the relationship between them continued even after Triton became king and married the princess of a neighboring underwater kingdom.

King Triton loved Ursula deeply (or so she'd believed at the time), but eventually the king fell in love with his new queen as well. Realizing this and knowing that the queen loved him back with equal force Ursula decided to leave Triton and try to start a new life elsewhere.

What she hadn't counted on was how possessive and jealously watchful her lover was.

Using the servants as spies, Triton immediately discovered her plan and had her captured before she could even leave the castle. Ursula begged him to let her go, to let her try and find someone else she could love and have a family with. She warned him that their relationship wasn't secret in the castle, that if she stayed then his wife would eventually find out about them and be crushed by the knowledge.

Furious over her betrayal, he had the mermaid locked in the dungeon. Every day he would visit her prison and demand she return to him.

"I will not stay by your side," she replied first sadly, and eventually with hostile spite. Every refusal felt like a personal insult to the proud king, who then punished the heartbroken mermaid as he saw fit.

Months passed, and Ursula discovered she was pregnant. Desperate, she traded her body for a favor from one of her guards and had them alert Queen Athena of her existence. The young queen – heavily pregnant herself – ventured into the dungeons and listened to Ursula's story. Rather than become angry, she felt deep sorrow for her husband's mistress and promised to arrange for Ursula's release.

"Why? I had hoped you would send me away even if only out of anger, but you're being so kind." Ursula wondered, surprised by the show of compassionate treatment from someone she felt she'd unwillingly wronged.

"I too have discovered Triton's true nature," Athena replied, placing a hand over her rounded stomach with a bitter smile. "I doubt you were a willing participant in the circumstances that led to your child's conception, and I know exactly how frightened you must be for Triton to discover your pregnancy."

Unable to refute her words, Ursula listened quietly to the queen's plan of escape. Terrified of her captor after months of imprisonment and living with his wrath, she begged the queen to come with her.

"I chose my fate when I agreed to an arranged marriage with someone I had never met before, Ursula and my husband's possessive heart now extends to his unborn child. When he discovers your absence he _will_ be furious, but cannot search too much lest he risk your relationship becoming public knowledge. If I were to escape with the baby he now covets…." She murmured with a tremble in her voice.

"There is nowhere on land nor sea that I could hide would that he not find me."

Two weeks later, the plan was set in motion. King Triton would be away at a ball, taking his strongest and most favored soldiers with him as a show of power. The queen enlisted the help of the castle enchantress to make sleeping potions that she then slipped to the guards in the prison.

Using clothes borrowed from a maid, she smuggled the disguised Ursula out of the prison and into the main castle. Sneaking through the kitchen, Ursula almost reached the door when she was once again apprehended by a frantic prison guard that'd been late for his shift; thus missing the queen's poisoning of the other guards.

Ursula was once again locked up.

The next day, King Triton showed up. He was furious, but gave his ex-mistress a final chance.

"I will not stay by your side." She replied once again.

Enraged, Titan pointed his trident at her and let his power flow through it.

"How _dare_ you act so spoiled. No more! My tolerance for your petty behavior ends; a lowly palace whore deserves nothing less than to be as ugly on the outside as she is within."

With that decree he shot a powerful, cruel curse at the woman who'd once loved him utterly.

Ursula's beautiful, creamy skin stretched and darkened until it was swollen and became an off-putting purple color. Her silky, ebony tresses turned white and took on the texture of rough, burnt hair. The lovely gold tail she sported split painfully and took on the same hue and rubbery texture as her skin, looking like the bottom half of an octopus.

Triton sneered in disgust at his handiwork, at the hideous monster he'd created out of the woman he'd once claimed to care for before ordering her to be taken out of the castle as she'd wanted. Ursula's adoptive mother was the one to find her outside the steps of the castle walls, the disfigured woman having fallen unconscious from the pain her transformation had wrought.

Crying in horror at what had been done to her poor daughter, she summoned the twin eels that acted as her familiars and asked them to take care of Ursula in her stead, as she'd become too old and weak to do so herself. To her regret she was no longer powerful enough to undo the damage that had been done, but she vowed to avenge the wrong that had been committed. That night, the old enchantress vanished without a trace – never to be seen or heard from again.

Ursula, now trapped in her new form, became insane. The curse had done more than just affect her body; it'd twisted her mind as well.

She invested herself deeply into her studies to become an enchantress, preparing for the opportunity to enact her revenge on Triton and acquire the one object that was powerful enough to change her back.

The trident.

Years passed, until one day a young mermaid by the name of Ariel ventured into her cave. Upon discovering the love-struck girl was Triton's seventh and most beloved daughter…

Well. The rest, as they say, is history.

* * *

Ursula thought that her pregnancy had been ended when Triton cursed her. Instead, it was somehow paused; the child frozen in time while her body had been so hideously warped.

The isle of the Lost was meant to be a prison for villains. Evil could pass through the barrier to get to the island, but the magic field didn't allow evil to leave. The barrier itself acted as nullifier for all magic effects, undoing any active potions, spells, or curses.

To put it simply, it undid the curse on Ursula.

Her body returned to normal, she soon realized that her unborn child had also been returned to her. After years in the grip of violent insanity Ursula's mental state wasn't completely recovered, but the mermaid was able to feel joy and kindness in a way she hadn't been able to in years. When her daughter was born, Ursula found that she was able to love again.

Uriel, or Uri as she preferred to be called, was a kind and adventurous mermaid. As the daughter of an enchantress and the most powerful king under the sea, her magical abilities were strong in ways Ursula had never seen before. A dangerous thing, considering Uri's insatiable curiosity.

When Uri was six, she successfully managed to create the potion that would give her legs for the first time. Delighted with the freedom it gave her, she snuck out of the cave while her mother was sleeping and ventured into town for the first time.

The first human she saw was a pirate by the name of Pintel. Jay, or Alibaba as he preferred to be called when he was working in his capacity as a thief, happened to pass by just as the pirate was trying to convince the young girl to follow him to his room. With a feeling of dread, the young boy slid down a drainpipe and silently walked up to the pair.

"Didn't your mom ever tell you not to talk to gross strangers?" he asked the girl, from behind the pirate's back.

Spinning around with a guilty expression, the man's countenance melted into an expression of relieved annoyance. "Alibaba, you little shite; couldn't bloody leave well enough alone. Come to steal me gold, have ya? I'm tellin' ya now, your grubby little hands ain't gonna –"

"Shut it, Pintel. Everybody knows you spend every penny you have on booze and women's clothing. I wouldn't steal what you've got even if you gave me the key to your room and begged me."

Scowling, the dirty man stepped forward threateningly, raising a fist as if to strike the small boy. Using the man's open stance against him, Jay rushed forward and stabbed the pirate in the leg with the knife he carried on him. Ignoring the man's howls of pain, Jay grabbed the strange girl's hand, pulling her along as he weaved through the dark streets with practiced ease.

Running on autopilot, the boy unconsciously brought them both to his front door.

"….Damn it," He cursed, a slightly confused look on his face over his blunder. Looking conflicted, he stood outside the door for a few seconds while he tried to figure out what to do.

"Um. Is this your house?" The small brunette next to him asked innocently. "It looks really nice; I've never been inside a house before."

Jay glanced at the pale girl weirdly. "Yeah…..It looks like you've never been inside clothes before either. What are you doing, running around in just a bra and underwear? You're practically begging for perverts to come after you!"

Looking down at the seashell bra she wore, the girl shrugged. "I always wear this. I did steal the underwear though. Mom told me that humans are really modest and freak out unless you cover up your bits."

"Humans?"

"Yeah, like you." The odd girl crouched down and looked at his knees with fascination and poked one.

"Hey, stop that!" Jay jerked his leg away. Glancing up, he saw one of the neighbors staring at him with a perplexed look on her face. Realizing they were attracting too much attention, Jay sighed and pulled on the girl's arm to get her to stand up.

Jay debated whether to take her home, wherever _that_ was, or let her go on her own. He glanced back at the scantily clad girl and felt his conscience tug at him uncomfortably. With how weird and naive she was, he doubted she'd make it back completely unscathed. Then again he hadn't found anything decent to steal in three days and the dark bruises on his torso were proof enough that his dad was becoming impatient. Taking this girl home only reduced the amount of time he had to find and steal something to get his dad to leave him alone. Feeling annoyance at whatever stupid _goodness_ was still in him he grabbed the girl's arm again, about to ask where she lived so he could escort her home when the front door to his house was ripped open.

Looking down at the two with unfocused eyes, Jafar grabbed his son and dragged the two children up the stairs. Letting go, he opened the door to his son's room and looked back down at the kids.

"A little young to be fucking girl's aren'tcha?" Jafar slurred with a raised eyebrow. Looking affronted, Jay opened his mouth to protest that he wasn't only to be unceremoniously shoved in to his room.

"Whatever, jus' keep it down. Enjoy tonight Jay; because if I wake up tomorrow and see there's no new merchandise on the table I'm goin' to whip you into next week."

With a drunken sneer, the man shut the door and left the two alone. The two kids listened for a moment to the sound of his feet shuffling down the hall before turning to look at each other.

"I'm not fucking you," Jay stated firmly, eyeing the girl suspiciously. Blinking, his companion scrunched her face up in confusion.

"What's fucking?" she asked.

"Are you dumb?" Jay asked with a scoff. "It's sex. Dad buys it all the time."

"I've never even heard of it, so I don't think I have any. Is it some kind of food?"

"No. At least I don't think so," Jay amended. "If sex is food, he's never brought any home."

"Wait; if you don't even know what it is, why are you calling _me_ dumb?" She questioned indignantly, her green eyes narrowing with displeasure.

"I call 'em like I see 'em, you naked weirdo."

" _Excuse me_ ," Uri sputtered. "I'm _not_ naked. I'm wearing underwear!"

"Because that's _so_ much better."

"It is! Mom said so!"

"Obviously she's a dumb, naked weirdo too if _that's_ what she told you!"

With a growl, the small brunette launched herself at the boy, taking him by surprise.

"You – urchin-brained," _grunt_ "claw pinching, krill minded – ow! Jerk!" she howled furiously.

The girl managed to tackle the boy to the ground, but Jay quickly got his bearings and fended off the surprisingly strong hits being sent his way.

"Hey, get off me!" Jay hissed, narrowly missing a hit to the eye.

"Make me!"

Years later, Jay couldn't remember when exactly the angry scuffle had turned into a playful wrestling match that devolved into mirthful tickling, but he knew it was the moment he'd gained his best friend.

Breathing heavily, the two worked to smother their giggles and stay quiet after Jafar had shouted at them to keep it down. Watching his strange new companion curiously, he suddenly realized something.

"Hey, I don't know your name." Reaching his hand out, he watched her with a newfound friendliness as he introduced himself. "Mine's Jay."

Looking unsure at what to do with the hand being offered, the small girl stared curiously for a moment before mirroring the action with her own hand. With a raised eyebrow, Jay grabbed the appendage and shook it lightly before letting go.

"My name's Uriel, but mom calls me Uri."

Frowning at the odd but vaguely familiar name, Jay searched his mind for a moment before gasping and looking at Uri with a newfound awe.

"Uriel….like Ariel, the mermaid? King Triton's daughter?"

Looking surprised, Uri nodded.

"Wait…..then, are _you_ a mermaid?"

Slightly more weary now, Uri nodded again slowly. Seeing the unsure expression on his new friend's face, Jay quickly hastened to reassure her.

"Hey, don't worry, I think that's really cool! Do you live in the ocean? I've never been, I can't even swim. Whoa, so do you have a tail and everything? Can you sing?" His thieving side joined in the enthusiasm.

"I bet mermaids have really good stuff," he sighed wistfully. Glancing at his strangely silent companion, he frowned.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Uri opened her mouth to reply, but the overly excited boy cut her off.

"Oh, wow. So it's true then? Being in human form means you lose your voice….wait a minute," he frowned. Feeling stupid, he finished his thought. "…..You were talking just a minute ago. So I know _that's_ not it." Turning to face Uri, he waited for her to speak.

"I'm not supposed to be on land," the tiny brunette admitted guiltily. "Mom said that I could try visiting land in a couple years, but it was too dangerous right now."

Jay nodded knowingly, remembering the pirate that had almost gotten ahold of his new friend. All the children knew to stay away from the strange pirate Pascal, that being alone with him or following him anywhere meant something incredibly bad.

Despite his hard upbringing and repeated exposure to the less savory areas of the island when he put on his disguise and became the infamous child-thief Alibaba, Jay was in quite a few ways still innocent to some of the more wretched acts adults could commit. The young boy hadn't known the exact nature of the pirate's intentions when he'd been trying to lure Uriel away with him, but looking back at the moment now, Jay thanked every deity he'd ever heard of that he'd known enough back then to understand that he needed to save Uriel from what would have been a horrific fate.

The island was a prison for the most evil, vile people that had ever walked the earth. Sociopaths, rapists, and mass murderers were common here. Respect for a person was measured in how many innocent lives had been ruined, how horrific the acts you committed were, and how much power you gained as a result.

Children were the easiest victims here, unless they had parents that loved them enough in their own twisted way to make their kids become evil enough, feared enough, _and powerful_ enough to protect themselves.

The island, while created with only the best of intentions by the "good guys" had only become a self-perpetuating cycle of evil. Innocent babies growing up here quickly became the next generation of evil as it was the only way for them to survive. Having become the powerful cruelty their parents were known for, the next generation would then be born in the exact same circumstances.

* * *

-Uriel is pronounced YOO-REE-EH-LL. Kind of like the name Ariel, but with a 'you' sound instead of the 'Eh' at the beginning.

-For those of you who may not have understood what I was trying to allude to in regards to what would have happened to Uriel if Jay hadn't saved her from the pirate….well. Maybe it's for the better. Writing about it left a bad taste in my mouth; I'm sure reading it wouldn't be much better.


End file.
